


It's an Artist Thing

by thefloralpeach



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Artist AU, College AU, Fluff, M/M, flustered marco, idk theyre just cuties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2014-05-24
Packaged: 2018-01-26 07:51:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1680506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefloralpeach/pseuds/thefloralpeach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Marco sketches Jean a lot and really doesn't want him to find out. He does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's an Artist Thing

_It's not weird… right?_

Marco sat on his bed in his dorm, leaning against the wall with his sketchbook in his lap, staring at the page.

_No, it's creepy…_

He tucked his pencil behind his ear and continued with his internal struggle. Drawing your best friend wasn't weird right?

_I'm an art student! It's just practice!_

That was reasonable enough for him. He reached for the pencil again and continued with his sketch, drawing out the strokes of his pencil across the page. After a few more meaningless lines, he stopped again and sighed. Despite his best efforts, he just couldn't get it right from memory. It wasn't Jean. Well, it was Jean, but it wasn't _Jean_. The facial shape was probably off, the position of his features not exactly-

"Hey Marco,"

Marco closed his sketchbook and drew it closer to him protectively as he greeted his roommate.

"Oh, hey Jean," he put on the most innocent look he could muster; hopefully Jean wouldn't question what he was drawing, and hopefully he wouldn't notice the blush that was almost definitely creeping its way onto Marco's face.

He did.

"What were you drawing just now? You looked pretty frustrated with it," he spoke nonchalantly as he settled in. There was still hope that he hadn't noticed the blush.

"Um-"

"You're blushing. Was it porn?" He asked, his tone condescending. Marco just blushed harder.

_Dammit, control your blushing, Marco._

"No! It was just a… sketch for figure studies. It wasn't really coming out right is all." He covered for himself quickly.

Jean walked over to Marco's bed and flopped down beside him with a tired grunt.

"I can help you out if you want," he suggested. He was in many of Marco's classes, and then some. On another occasion, Marco may have said yes, believing Jean's artistic ability was far more advanced than his own. In this situation, however…

"Oh, no, I got it-" he nearly stuttered, looking way more flustered than he was willing to admit.

_Nice job, Marco. You really can't just be calm, can you._

Jean scoffed at him. "Oh come on, Marco, at least let me see it! If I didn't know better, I'd think you were hiding something."

_Oh God he knows. Don't blush Marco, do NOT._

He did.

"Okay," Marco muttered and reluctantly opened the book, flipping through the pages carefully so Jean wouldn't see the amount of times he appeared. He stopped on a page with rough sketches of what could pass for figure practice. "It's just these. They don't really look right," he continued his little white lie. He thought maybe Jean believed it.

"Marco these are fine," he said, his voice mildly confused. "What didn't you like about them?"

One of the greatest things about Jean Kirschtien is that he was genuinely concerned about things and people. Actually, no, that wasn't true. He usually wasn't very concerned about people and at all. But he was about Marco. Sometimes this thought would cross his mind and he couldn't help but smile.

"I guess I was just being a perfectionist." Marco said, brushing off the situation.

Jean scoffed again. "Alright, whatever. Fucking nerd," he said, ever so endearing, as he hopped off Marco's bed and dragged himself over to his desk.

Marco just stared at the page for a little while until he was sure Jean was preoccupied with whatever was on his laptop. Tentatively, he opened back up to the sketch of Jean. He drew his pencil from behind his ear and began the necessary adjustments.

_Nope. Totally not weird Marco. Not at all._

He continued sketching, eyes moving from the page to Jean and back.

_Shut up, conscience._

He abandoned his inner debate, choosing instead to focus all he could on the drawing. He made note of everything as he went along editing- Jean's eyes were brighter than that, his nose curved in _this_ way, not _that_ way, and the lines of his face curve and straighten _here,_  not _there._ He almost forgot that he was supposed to be hiding this from Jean. The next time Marco looked up, Jean was looking right back.

"Whatcha drawing there?" He asked with a playful note dancing in his voice.

_Oh fuck._

"Oh, uh," Marco struggled with an excuse to this one, "just more weird sketches." He tried not to appear too flustered.

He did.

"Can I see?" Jean asked and raised his eyebrows.

_No. You can't see because I'm being a creepy little stalker who's drawing his best friend. And you know I'm doing it too you little shit that's exactly why you want to see it-_

His train of angry thoughts was interrupted by Jean jumping from his chair and practically hurling himself at Marco.

"No! Jean, what are you-"

"Woah man, is that me?"

Marco was silent, as if he completely forgot how to speak. He couldn't find any words that could make the situation okay. So, he sat on his bed, his sketchbook revealing an embarrassing drawing of his best friend, speechless. It was a few awkward moments before he could speak again.

"Sorry…" he nearly whispered.

Jean looked back at him from flipping between the pages. Marco hadn't even noticed that. Now it wasn't just one drawing Jean knew about. He could see all of them on the pages open in his lap.

Then Jean started laughing.

"Okay, I get this is really weird and all but you don't have to-"

"No, Marco, hold on," he interrupted and left Marco's bed.

At his own bed, Jean reached down between his mattress and the wall, pulling out his own sketchbook in his grasp. So that's why Marco never saw it. Book in hand, Jean returned to Marco, once again flopping beside him.

"You're taking this strangely well for just figuring out your roommate is a creeper who draws you all the time," Marco spoke, not helping his cause.

Jean laughed again. "You fucking nerd. Ugh, Armin told me I should've shown you, too. I should've listened," he handed the book to Marco, who took it despite his bewilderment.

Marco flipped through the pages, studying carefully the images displaying themselves before him. Images of himself. In his dorm, in the classroom, at the lunch halls- all these times Jean had his sketchbook, he was sketching Marco too.

So that's why Armin was trying to persuade him to show Jean…

A smile broke across his face. "So, it's not creepy. It's an artist thing," he reasoned.

Well, a hopelessly-crushing-on-someone-artist thing.

"I think it's a little more than just an artist thing," Jean answered with a coating of sarcasm.

Marco continued to flip through the pages, ignoring his incessant blush that just wouldn't stay away and not bothering to stifle the smile tugging at his lips.

"You got all my freckles exact," he thought aloud, moving his head to look at Jean. It was now his turn to blush.

"Oh, y-yeah," he stuttered, "I wanted it to be perfect."

Marco's smile only widened, and Jean's blush only deepened; their faces were only inches apart. Marco glanced towards Jean's lips, as a silent go-ahead.

 _Yes, please,_ _kiss me._

He did.       


End file.
